A Walk in the Rain

    
Today I want to talk to you about the joy of going for a walk when you are combating depression.  Goodness knows that any of us who are experiencing the "darkness" just want to find a deep hole and jump in it.  Getting lost in the dreariness is a favorite pastime for depressed persons.  How many times have we been told by a family member or friend that we should get up and move?  My first instinct would be to dive deeper into that dank hole and ask to be left alone.  But pushing people away is not the answer.  We all know that hiding in the corner will do us no good.  No depressed person has ever been "cured" by isolating themselves and filling up on self pity.  So I recommend that you do something.  Just something small… go for a 10 minute walk.

     About two years ago I experienced the lowest point I have ever been in.  I was working at a job I hated and could see no way out.  I ended up taking a few months off.  My doctor guided me during this time and she demanded that I do one thing.  Walk!  So I did.  For those few months I got out and walked 3 times a day.  At first it was only 10 minutes at a time and then, before I knew it, I found myself walking for an hour or more each day.  It did me a world of good.  I would smile as I greeted other walkers and I got some of my creativity back. 

      I did back slide some when I had to go back to that job but what I had discovered was something I did not want to lose.  So I made a plan.  I decided that I was going to quit the job and find my way into something that I would enjoy doing.  This part of the process had some hit and misses but I stayed focused on what I wanted.  I put myself first because doing so would benefit not just me but my family and my friends.  I am about to make a huge change in my career.  Something I thought I would never do.  I am scared and excited.  I am not sure what will happen but I do know that I have my walks if I need a break or time to think.

     Today I knew it was going to rain but I got out there anyway.  The rain started to really come down about 1/3 of the way through my walk but I found that I was not miserable.  I enjoyed the sound of it and they way it played off the trees on the wooded path.  So, take it from someone whose go to place was that deep dark hole.  Get up and on to your feet and go out.  It really does help.

White Man Privilege

     I was surprised to see my wife add the hash tag #metoo to her face book page the other day.  Of course I knew about the campaign and supported it. When I asked about why she posted it, she reminded me of an incident that happened to her years ago. It was something that has happened to almost all women at sometime in their lives. Of course she had spoken of it too me long ago but I had forgotten all about it.  I HAD FORGOTTEN!!  How could I have forgotten something as despicable as that.  And that's the problem with being a white male.  I think far too many times we (white males) have the privilege of a selective memory.  We watch these situations play out in front of us and ask how can this be happening but because what happens to Women and Blacks and Muslims on a daily basis is not happening to us we let it dissipate from out minds.  
     I have never experienced what women go through or blacks or Muslims.  I can't.  I wish I could.  What I can do is be much more aware of my actions towards everyone.  I can stand up when I see something wrong happen.  I can be a better person.  I can't change the colour of my skin but I can change the colour of my attitude. 
     I hope that I have never made any woman feel uncomfortable in any way.  If I have, please accept my apology.  White males around the globe have likely done this "self" examination over the past week.  Hopefully it won't be a one time thing and that we will make it a regular part of who we are.  Most of all I hope we don't "forget"!

Bullet Journal: A life saver?

A depressed mind is a confused and unorganized mind.  Add ADHD on top of that and you have yourself a recipe for a very murky soup.  When I look back at my younger self, I can see times where my ADHD had presented it's self, but I did not recognize it.  Starting sometime after 2001, my depression symptoms began to emerge.  Slowly confusion and apathy became a part of my life.

Now, I have always prided myself with being an organized person.  I love to make to do lists and start projects with a flair.  I usually have a different notebook for each project or thought.  Soon my bookshelf was full of an overwhelming amount of journals.  Slowly I would drift away from each project because it was so very, very paralyzing.  Every year, around new years, I would try and start again with the dozen or so diaries.  Until spring of 2017.  It was then that my wife sent me a link to http://bulletjournal.com/.  Bullet Journaling is perhaps the biggest, newest fad that no one knows about outside of the thousands and thousands of people who use them.

It's really very simple.  You have a dozen projects but instead of using 12 notebooks you use one notebook.  The link above will explain it better than I could but I can tell you this.  It's six months since I started this and I am still at it.  I've joined a face book group and am a bit obsessed.  Very quickly, here's how it works.  You start with dedicating four to six pages at the beginning as an index or table of context.  Make sure the journal is numbered and then write each project, collection or schedule in the index.  You create a future log, a calendar of the year that fits on two to four pages and divide each month into section and note future events in point form.  No detail.  Then you create your first month's spread.  That is a page or two that shows a full month.  You can then get detailed with each day.  Note appointments, birthdays etc.  Also, on an unused part of the page you can create a place for To Do lists, Goals and more.  Next create a weekly view.  Get more detailed about what is happening that week.  After that the sky is the limit.  You can have pages that list your favorite books, movies to see ... anything you want.  Again, if you are interested click on the link above.

Since I began this project I have found that I have more focus and see opportunities ahead.  While it is not the ultimate cure for depression it has helped.  Thanks for your time and I hope to see you back here for my next post.

Father's Day

     Tomorrow is Father's Day.  It has never taken on the same importance as Mother's Day but that's ok.  Mothers are on a whole different level than Fathers and we all know it.  Hell, I think they should have Mother's Day three or four times a year just to keep the rest of us on our toes.
     I was thinking about my father this past week.  He has been gone for awhile now and I often wonder what our relationship would have been like if he were with us today.  It certainly would have been great to have had him in my son's life for a few more years.  He would be so proud of the man my son has become.  And I am sure that he would have pointed out that my son is a lot like me when I was his age.
     It's funny how memories creep into your brain sometimes.  Something you haven't thought about in years just pops in.  One in particular was Saturday mornings.  My mom usually worked on Saturdays so Dad would do the grocery shopping.  Sometimes I would go with him but most Saturday mornings I would be glued to the TV set watching Saturday morning cartoons and old reruns of Star Trek and the Dick Van Dyke Show.  Around noon Dad would return with the groceries and I would help him unpack.  Then he would get lunch ready for anyone of us kids who were around.  Most Saturdays it was just me and him.  I can still taste and smell his favorite Saturday dish.  He would fry up some ground beef and then stir in a can or two of Heinz Spaghetti.  Then he would give us both a heaping plate full and we would sit in front of the TV to watch Grand Pre Wrestling.  When it ended my Dad was usually fast asleep having a well deserved nap and I was out the door to go play with my friends.
     As I think about that time I wish I could have one more Saturday like that one with my father.  I hope that I have given my own son some shared experiences that he will think back on years from now.  In the mean time I will continue to create memories and wish all Dads the best of Father's Day.

Once more with feeling.

Depression is a formidable foe.  I have fought this fight for longer that I care to admit.  I have been in this battle longer than I even knew I was depressed.  It has cost me a lot.  Relationships have suffered.  Employment has been lost. Health has been put in jeopardy.  But today I want to talk about Time and Creativity. 

Time wasted is a crime that is unforgivable.  The amount of time spend regretting and cursing and feeling sorry for myself and mostly ... hiding.  It pisses me off!!  And my creativity.  For along as I can remember it was my creative self that defined who I was.  Those who know me will agree.  They see that I have not been as creative as I was in the past.  I remember when, if I had a project to work on, I would stay with it until completion. Even if it meant going without sleep.  I would wake up each day and be excited about whatever I was working on.  Even this blog, at it's beginning, was a labour of love.  I posted at least once a month.  Now I am lucky to post once a year.

Something that has embarrassed me is the number of times I have told people that I was working on a new project.  A movie screenplay, TV project, self help book, romance novel, painting and the list goes on.  Some of you may know that last year I attended a screenwriting boot camp.  I came away from it with a solid idea and some real interest from people who work in the "business".  Then I returned to work and depression reared its ugly head and that spark was extinguished.  I have since spent a year beating myself up over not being able to grasp a great opportunity.

But ... and there is always a but.  I can't give up.  I have tried to tell myself that it just isn't in the cards for me to be a writer or painter or producer or whatever.  No matter how low I get, every single day I get a flash of an idea that has some merit.  Depression can't take that away from me.  Creativity is too strong.  There's nothing I can do about time but with any creative project that I may have or am thinking up, I can START OVER.  What do I really have to lose?  What do you have to lose?  Nothing.  If you are in my position or if you know someone who is, just know that there is no shame in starting again.  Erase the past and step forward into a new future.  And if today does not work for you then try it again tomorrow, or the next day.  Even if all you ever do is start projects then at least you are feeling the flame.  Go for it.  I am ... again.

Letter to my brother and sister

I have been thinking about this the last few months.  I have been wanting to thank my brother Greg and sister Susan for how they have stepped up when it came to the care of our parents.  My sister is a health care practitioner and my brother is a retired teacher/minister.  It is in their DNA to help people.

We all get older and there is nothing we can do to stop that.  I am grateful for the help both my siblings have been able to give to Mom and Dad over the years.  Shortly after my father retired we learned that he had Parkinson's.  My sister Sue, living and working in the area, was immediately there with suggestions and offering any help that was needed.  My brother Greg took early retirement a few years later when Dad's Parkinson's took a turn and it was apparent that my Mom would need more help around the house.  They were both around to be of help and, when the time came, to transition my Dad into the Veteran's wing of the local hospital.  The family that lived in the city got down to the south shore for visits but it was Mom, Greg and Sue who were there each and everyday to be with Dad before the end.

Now, as my Mom ages, there are issues that crop up every once in awhile.  Besides checking in with her almost daily, and making sure she gets out of the house for appointments, groceries or just visits, my brother and sister and on call twenty-four seven for any health emergencies.  Gratefully there has been nothing too serious.  Still, I am relieved that my Mom has them both so close by. I hope that if I were living in the area, that I too would be "on call" and would be ready to jump into action.  A feeling I am sure my other sister and the rest of the family share.

But right now it is Greg and Susan who are stepping in and I just wanted to make sure they knew how much I appreciated it.  It's hard to imagine being sick and having no one there to help.  I know my Mom is grateful for all their help.

I love you and I thank you from the bottom of my heart.

Sincerely,

your little brother

Exile

The last time I posted on this site was Jan 1, 2016.  The last time I posted anything on the web was on my "web-sight" forum back in May of this year.  Here's a link just in case you want to wander back and take a look at my "experiment". http://mboyd59.wixsite.com/web-sight

What have I been up to you might ask? (Pause)  Go ahead ... ask!!  (Pause)  Thanks for asking.  You're so kind.  (Blush)  Okay.  What have I been doing with myself since we last chatted on the world wide web.  NOTHING!!  Not a damn thing!  We'll that is not completely true.  Since May I attended the PEI Screenwriter's Boot Camp where I developed and refined my pitch for a TV series based on this blog.  http://www.peiscreenwritersbootcamp.net/home
By the way.  Thanks to the wonderful organizer Louise Lalonde, my team's workshop guru Hanna Cheesman AND my good friend and producer, Donna Davies.  Without Donna's encouragement I would not have gone to the event and realized that I still had something to say.  It was also the beginning of my very slow emergence from a self imposed exile.  After that was the summer, which meant a week in PEI with some of my favorite campers/friends and in September, the trip of a life time for my wife and I.  We went to Europe on an 11 day cruise through Italy, Greece and eastern Europe.  Fantastic!

So, why was I in exile you ask?  Again ... thanks for your concern.  It really means a lot to me.  But let me answer.  Basically I was stuck.  The fog and heaviness of depression, anxiety and ADHD took a large toll on me over the last year.  I was not only stuck creatively, I was also frozen in a job I knew did nothing to nurture my creativity.  So I left.  September 2, 2016 was my last day at the call center and I do not regret it one bit. I had committed six years to trying to make myself fit into that world and try as I might it just did not happen.  I needed to push myself away from that atmosphere and get my creative soul back.

Now, it has not been like riding a bike.  Over the last few weeks I have fallen a number of times and some of the scabs are still healing but I am getting right back on and will continue to get back on until I find what I am looking for.  As always I must thank and be forever grateful to my wife and partner.  She has endured so much and while a bike for two is tough to ride we continue to work towards mastering it.

So, not exiled anymore.  Good.  Being out of work.  Not great but better than being where I don't belong.  Trying to find myself again ... always a good thing.  And hey... if you know a good place where I might fit in let me know.  I'm ready to go.